


Daughters of Zeus

by Elizabeth A Nield (KayleeArafinwiel)



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Little Sisters, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8143718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/Elizabeth%20A%20Nield
Summary: The daughters of Zeus, king of the gods, reflect on themselves, their father, and each other.1. "Hebe"2. "Artemis"3. "Athene"





	1. Hebe

 

Many people think my father did not love my mother, or that my mother did not love my father. This is not so. Indeed, they loved each other with a passion; but it manifested in different ways. Mother's possessive desires drove her into jealous rages; Father's love was large enough for the whole world, and why should it not be so? He was its king, after all.

But Mother was queen, and as Father dallied with women divine and mortal alike, she burned with a hatred of his lovers as fierce as her love for him. The hatred that drove her has caused many to fear. A goddess' wrath is never to be taken lightly. I should know.

My brothers you know; Ares with his shining shield and helm, his sword and spear sharpened to deliver the gods' justice as he rides to the wars. Hephaestos, cruelly twisted and misshapen, broken by a fall from Olympus when Mother cast him down in a fit of temper. Yet he was her favourite son for all of that; and he never begrudged her cruelty. He knew her better than any other, and would forge jewels and bracelets and necklaces, beautifying her throat and wrists with all his works. He forged for brother Ares, too, and for many of our half-siblings and other relations. Some say Mother bore my twisted brother without Father's help, but who can say? Not I; I was only a child.

But my sister was Ilithyia, goddess of childbirth and labour pains, and she was Mother's daughter to the core. She supported Mother in her roles, and what was I? I had to work to find my place, for so much had already been parceled out to my myriad relations. It does not do to be born when all the duties have been given out.

Apollo and Artemis, my half-siblings, the glorious twins, made a pet of me and it was Artemis who finally said, "Father, our little one must have a duty. She is young, but she is not useless, and you do not ignore your other children by our step-mother. Why neglect your youngest?"

I was mayhap three or four, but I remember those words, and how Father smiled on Artemis, a woman grown yet still a maiden, who spoke them.

"For you, my silver princess, anything," he said and kissed her brow. He lifted me onto his knee and looked seriously into my eyes. "And you, little one? What do you want?" he asked. My mind spun as I thought of the fact that I could ask him for anything, anything and he would give it to me.

"I want..." I chewed my lip anxiously. "I want to be good," I said finally. "I want to help. I want Mother to like me as much as she likes Ilithyia." Father frowned a little as I spoke my last, but he nodded, thinking it over.

"Do you remember Aphrodite?" he asked, and I nodded, for I often saw the new goddess fluttering her eyes at my warlike brother - and my poor twisted brother making the same eyes at her.

"Yes Father, I remember Aphrodite." She would come between my brothers, in time.

"Your mother likes Aphrodite very much, and she wants Aphrodite to be happy. I think Aphrodite could use a new friend, someone to help her and make her feel at home. Olympus is a big place, when you are new." Father looked at me seriously, and I nodded. Olympus was a big place.

"I can help. I will be good, Father."

"Very well, then," Father said, giving me a kiss of benediction. "Be Aphrodite's helpmate and as you grow we shall see what other duties you are suited for, Hebe." The sound of my name on Father's lips was sweet, and I nodded, wanting to please him. Jumping up, I ran to find Aphrodite, still a bit lost, clad only in her seafoam gown. I looked at it critically. Aunt Amphitrite probably gave it to her.

Aunt Amphitrite didn't know much about Olympian fashion.

Luckily, Mother had sent some nymphs to take Aphrodite's measure, and fit her in a better gown. I held Aphrodite's hand while the fitting was going on - nymphs could be scary at the best of times - and when it was over and Aphrodite had better fitting clothing, I looked at her in awe. "You are beautiful."

"More beautiful than your mother?"

I paused. "Well...um..." That was a dangerous question, so I shrugged and offered myself to her service, suitably distracting her. From then on, I was Aphrodite's companion, and later, the goddesses' cup-bearer. I, Hebe, had my purpose.

 

 


	2. Hebe

 

 

 

We should have been jealous. I, especially, should have been jealous. My dear brother had nothing to fret about - she was a girl, and he was lord of the sun, his golden bow and chariot gleaming as he whipped his fiery horses across the sky. No fear for him was losing his place, out of wedlock though we were. But I...I was Leto's daughter, and now for the first time in several years, the queen of the gods had borne her husband a daughter. A trueborn daughter, not baseborn such as me.

But I was not jealous. Afraid for my place? Oh, certainly - I daresay my half-sisters and I did worry. But it soon came to pass that Father Zeus had little time for his trueborn daughter, and Hera cared more for her firstborn. So who was there to look after her?

One would laugh ere thinking 'twould be the Maiden Huntress, the eternal Virgin, to do it.

But no; I was the Maiden, and she was a child, Innocence personified. No impurities touched either of us, though Father was not above sporting with my maidens out of our sight. My silver chariot of the night, drawn by a pair of stags, leaped through the star-strewn sky to carry the Moon on its ordained path, and Hebe would ride with me, wrapped in a cloak of soft rabbit's fur against the thin air and the chill. During the day, she would run unclothed through the wilds with me, chasing down rabbits and deer, kits and fawns to play with, begging me not to shoot. And indeed, if they were mothers or children, I let them be.

But if any animal bared tooth or claw against Hebe, the silver arrows flew while Callisto covered Hebe's eyes.

Callisto had loved Hebe, and I knew it. But it was Callisto's love for children that led at last to her downfall. Father promised to give her a child like Hebe, and she let herself be swayed. I hated to do it, and indeed Hebe begged me not to. I hated it with every fiber of my being. But when Callisto's stomach grew round with child, I had no choice. There was no other punishment for the breaking of the virginal oath but death.

She pleaded for Callisto's life, but there was no other way. Athene flew, owl-clad, from a branch and landed on the ground in human form, catching up our sister and hiding her eyes. A bear stood where Callisto had been, and my eyes stung with tears as I sighted my arrow, nocking it to the bowstring.

The arrow flew unerringly, and I granted Callisto a quick death. It was the one mercy I could give her. Her child, in bear-shape, was expelled from her body, and it was only when I heard Hebe's muffled cry that I knew she had seen past Athene's attempt to hide her face. Sorrowfully, I cleaned the bodies of both mother and cub, freeing them of blood and the fluids that encased the newborn. Both were dead, and I resolved to bury them with honour. But before I could do so, they were simply...not there.

"Look!" Hebe's strangled gasp cut off her sobs, and I followed her finger, pointed skyward. Above us, in the cold expanse of the heavens, a new set of stars flared; a mother bear curled round her cub, and I bowed my head in respect. Father had given them the honour he chose to bestow, and none would argue with Zeus.

"Forgive me, Callisto." I would never ride the skies again without thinking of her. A breath of wind ghosted past me, and it felt like a kiss of benediction.

She had forgiven me. Callisto knew I sorrowed for her, and her forgiveness was a balm to my immortal soul.

 

 


	3. Athene

 

 

"Are you all right, Little One?" I, Athene, daughter of Metis held my youngest half-sister, and Hebe sobbed into my feathered cloak.

"Callisto…" she wept, and I nodded. "I know, Little One. But you saw yourself, Father has placed her in the stars, where she shall always watch over you." Artemis was eyeing me warily, as if to ask _Did I do right?_

_Go find out, sister,_ I sent to her, cradling Hebe in my arms, and Artemis' silver stags pawed the ground impatiently. She sighed and leaped into her silver chariot, cracking the whip that sent them leaping on their appointed course. The wind picked up, and I walked through the wood with my burden.

No, not so much a burden, not Hebe, I realised with sudden clarity. No more a burden was she than I, for I myself was father Zeus' unwanted get – had he not swallowed my mother ere I was even born to be certain he would never sire another child upon her? So I had sprung from his head when brother Hephaestos split his skull, not from mother's womb as would be expected.

Besides, had I not had such a falling out with my cherished companion as Artemis had with Callisto? Pallas and I were the closest of companions, and yet the day came when she raised sword against me. I struck first, and killed her. Her name lives on, borne by me out of shameful memory.

"Athene?" Hebe looked up, searching my face, and I sighed.

"Forgive me, little sister. I fear I have done you a disservice, falling silent so. Do you wish to talk about what happened?"

"Did Artemis hate Callisto, Athene?" Hebe asked, and my voice was choked thick with tears when I answered at last. _O, Pallas!_ "Nay, Little One. She loved her very much – perhaps more than any but Apollo, and you," I whispered. "She loved you more. She could not countenance Callisto's breaking the Law where you could see."

"It's my fault." Hebe's face crumpled, and I cursed myself a thousand times over in silence. "No. _No,_ Little One, little Hebe. Callisto made her choice _knowing_ what would come. She just didn't know it would hurt _you."_

I hugged Hebe close, then, and vowed that father Zeus would never hurt Hebe so – not whilst I was there to keep her and protect her. Leto's children would not have her sole keeping. Eternal Virgin or no, I found myself to be a mother still. _See you, Queen of the Gods, your neglected daughter will still have care,_ I flung to my silent stepmother.

_So be it,_ was the unsatisfactory response. I knew Ilithyia still stood at her side, her cherished pet and apprentice, and vowed to see that one trueborn daughter would have as much love as the other.

 

 


End file.
